An evening most profitable
by Geale
Summary: At the Imladris midwinter celebrations discoveries are made and profits are gained – to equal delight and dismay. Yet love is what counts, in the end. Elrond/Legolas SLASH, established relationship (if somewhat new).


**Summary:** At the Imladris midwinter celebrations discoveries are made and profits are gained – to equal delight and dismay. Yet love is what counts, in the end.

 **Pairing:** Elrond/Legolas

 **Rating:** M

 **Warnings:** SLASH

 **Disclaimer:** All characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

 **A/N:** Something on the lighter side this time around. I hope you enjoy it!

 **An evening most profitable**

I had not expected such a surprise.

"Aragorn!"

We met in an odd sort of greeting: it was half embrace, half the kind of clasp-of-the-shoulder that was the warrior's acknowledgment of an equal. It was a flood of unlooked-for satisfaction at the discovery of the other's presence, mixed with a sudden bout of apprehension, at least on my part.

Still, I fixed my smile firmly in place as we parted to appraise one another. This mortal was now a man grown – at least according to the reckoning of the Edain – and he stood as tall as me. Quite possibly even rivalling his foster-brothers in that respect. A few snowflakes had landed in his dark tresses and there was a rosy hue to his well-shaven cheeks, courtesy of the crisp air that tingled icily around us.

"Legolas, 'tis good to see you. Truly!" His eyes shone brightly, catching threads of silver-golden glow from the web of light that cocooned us.

"And you!" I studied the young man before me. "Have you grown?"

He grimaced, then, and the years blurred before my very eyes and he was Estel again – the youngling I had always been so sure I would forever know him as, even as I knew he would change.

"I see I shall soon have cause enough to regret this reunion," he complained. "Indeed, you are no better than my brothers."

Now, more than before, I found it easy to smile. I also stepped aside to let a dark-haired elf I knew not by name squeeze through. "A little better?"

"Marginally."

The balcony was quite crowded and the tangling of voices wove between us. The glowing lights had been scattered among the snow-covered branches of the trees and their shine danced off every surface. In my goblet, the spiced wine was cooling but it was enjoyable all the same. Estel-Aragorn, however, looked as though he could use another layer of clothing.

"When did you return?" I asked, steering him towards the archway that led into the house.

"No more than three hours ago. I would have found you sooner but I waited quite some time for father to receive me. He was engaged in some conference, I reckon. I expect that with all these guests," he made a sweeping gesture with a hand, "he has been kept rather busy?"

"Oh." A dash of heat I had no control over stung my cheeks and I could only hope that it passed unnoticed. "Yes, I am sure he has had plenty of matters to attend to. Aragorn–"

But in that moment, we reached the archway and the young man rubbed his hands together for warmth.

"I just wish father would confine himself less to his study."

He shifted to face me. His words came in a great rush, as though they had crowded in his throat for the longest time and only now did he see purpose to release them:

"It is how I have always known and seen him: as the scholar, the reader. A politician, even, perhaps. I cannot help but imagine that to be a dull existence." His grey eyes, lively as a brook, were gleaming earnestly and in that gaze was not a small amount of pity, too. Then he made a face, "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

I swallowed down my confession. It had been on the very tip of my tongue and ready to explode from there. To spill into the unknown lands that were Aragorn's reaction and response. But it turned out I was not ready to do this and nor did I know if I had the right to. It was true that Aragorn was my friend but in this case he was foster-son, first and foremost, and there had been no discussing the best way to inform him of the current state of affairs. As a matter of fact, I had expected it to be a while yet before we were going to have to do it. Hence my apprehension.

"No, nothing," I shook my head and produced another smile. "It pleases me to see you again, that is all."

It was indeed the truth – as badly timed this reunion might be due to other circumstances. But it was good to see him again and discover that another two years of riding with the northern Rangers had not cost him a limb or his sanity.

"And you." Aragorn readily returned my smile. "Father seemed pleased, too," he added, yet again circling the conversation back to Lord Elrond, "albeit surprised. Which is my own fault since I did not think to send word in advance."

"He is delighted," I said. "I am sure," I quickly added, lest I reveal too much.

"Yes, well…" There was a sudden rising of the colour in the young man's cheeks. "I admit I had hoped…" His grey gaze slid from my face to dart around the room. "Well…" He seemingly brought himself together with some effort. "'Twas foolish of me to imagine that she might…"

I licked my lips. From somewhere deeper in the house, music came drifting out to us. "Have you… heard anything?"

"No." He shook his dark head. "I know only that her intention was to dwell again in Lórien for a while. She has sent no word."

To this I knew not what to say. This was maybe the one subject which Lord Elrond was most unwilling to discuss. With anyone.

"I will prove myself to him," Aragorn was saying now, the brazen light of mortal youth flashing sharply in his eyes. "He will see. I will make myself worthy in his opinion. I know he is very old and has seen much sorrow and pain, and it is truly a sad thing how he has closed his heart so completely to love."

It was most ill-advised to conjure any hope for him, I knew, for it was no secret that his foster-father was strongly opposed to the match and nothing I had seen or heard of late had given me cause to suspect a change of view. However, I could not stop myself from speaking – as if a curse had been unwittingly placed on me.

"His heart is not closed, Aragorn."

But the man did not appear moved by this. There was even a pinch of bitterness in his reply. "I would not be so sure."

I – to infinite relief – was saved from having to word a vague enough objection by the call of bright voices and not a moment later we were joined by the twins.

"Estel!" Elrohir caught him in a firm embrace. "What a surprise!"

Elladan, too, leaned over and caught his foster-brother in a proper hug. "Did you sniff your way to the food through the woods?"

"I did no such thing," Aragorn protested, running a hand through his shoulder-length hair to smooth it back down. "But with the last full moon I remembered it was nigh on midwinter and so I chanced coming here–"

"With the hope of crashing our celebrations and filling your belly," Elladan concluded for him with a grin. He tossed some of his ink-black hair over a shoulder. "Clever thinking."

"And lucky, too," said Aragorn, dismissing his brother with a grimace. "Else I would not have met Legolas. I have not seen him for too long."

I was about to reply but Elrohir cut across me swiftly.

"Nor we," he said, with a merciless sparkle dancing in his eyes, causing me to instantly regret that I had looked upon the twins as saviours, only a moment ago. "Indeed, it seems we have not seen much of him at all since his arrival."

Opening my mouth did not help in forming the words I needed. Again, there was a prickling heat to my cheeks most uncomfortable. Unfortunately, it was more visible in here, to be sure, than on the crowded balcony in the setting night and the pattern of uneven light.

"Is that so?" Aragorn turned to me in curiosity. "When did _you_ arrive, Legolas?"

I made an effort to keep my voice light. "Four moons ago."

"You have been here four full months?"

"Yes…" I began, painfully conscious of the way that Elladan and Elrohir were grinning in unison beside me. "There have been many…" I floundered, trying in vain to keep my thoughts in check and in line.

"Oh, there is much business between the Valley and the Forest to settle, it turns out," Elladan supplied generously. "Indeed, Legolas sees more of our father than we do."

"I see," said Aragorn, surprise evident on his face. "Well, in that case, I am sorry for you. I recall you once mentioning that your brothers were more politically engaged?"

"Ah, yes…" I tried to find the words – any words, really – that might put an end to this discussion. "It was not my intention to… Well, I was sent on bequest of my father in a smaller matter of little significance but–"

"Discoveries were made," said Elrohir, not trying overly hard to hide yet another grin behind his goblet.

Elladan nodded. "Mutual interests were identified."

Aragorn raised his eyebrows. "Between us and Mirkwood? Forgive me, Legolas, but I was under the impression that your father did not, ah, seek any allegiances?"

Before I was given a chance to end it, Elrohir shook his head. "It has actually been a long time coming," he said, ponderously, as though we were truly discussing politics. "We first saw the signs a few years back, is that not right, _tôren_?" He turned a perfectly innocent face to his twin.

"Indeed." Elladan nodded, sagely. "Relations between Imladris and Mirkwood have been thawing for some time now. You have missed the change, brother, during your muddy adventures in the ditches in the North, but it has been most… _fascinating_ to observe."

"Quite invigorating," added Elrohir. I could only pray that his outrageous grin at me went by unnoticed by his foster-brother. " _Inspiring_."

I did not know what to do or say. I seldom had reason to blush before setting foot again in Imladris four moons ago but now it seemed I did little else. I wished the twins would be quiet, that they would tire of this game and leave me in peace, but it was most likely a naïve hope; I knew them too well by now.

"I would not have guessed," said Aragorn. "But it is a good thing, no?"

"Oh, yes," Elrohir hurried to say. And for the first time that night he gave me an earnest, genuine smile. "A very good thing."

It helped a little. I knew the twins held nothing against me, nor their father, when it came to this particular business but it was always reassuring to hear it. It was true, too, that they had been expecting it, but expectations – no matter how clearly perceived – did not always merge seamlessly with reality and so it had been with great relief that all of us had discovered that recent developments had not stained the bonds of friendship and family. I was infinitely grateful for this, even though, in this moment, I would rather have been discussing something else.

In other words, I loved them yet I could easily throttle them.

"Ah," Elladan lifted his gaze from my face and now pointed to the archway and the balcony yonder. "Speak of the Troll."

We turned as one.

There was no Troll.

It did not matter that Glorfindel of the golden hair stood resplendent beside him, or that the winter stars strew silver into the glow of the tree-lights to wash every elf's form: Lord Elrond outshone them all.

I had last seen him in his study, dressed in doeskin breeches, a simple linen undershirt and low, soft boots. Now he was wearing high boots – reaching up his calves, almost to his knees – and he had exchanged his old breeches for new coal-black ones and had donned his finest woollen tunic of a deep purple. He wore a black leather belt and the slender silver circlet that gleamed against his hair seemed to be spun from moonlight alone.

Tall, broad-shouldered and showing such ancient grace that it sent my breath right out of my body, he moved into the room. Light – gold and silver – danced across his face: the high cheekbones and the chiselled chin, and it pooled maddeningly glorious in those grey eyes that scanned the crowd. When they fell on me, I honestly feared I would dissolve from longing.

His smile was almost imperceptible but I saw it and knew it for what it was, and I had to bite down on my own tongue to keep myself in check. How it was that I had caught the attention of Elrond I had not the faintest idea but I had not once voiced that question and I was certainly not about to do it now for the first time.

They made to come towards us, Glorfindel leaning in and murmuring something in his Lord's ear at which the latter raised an eyebrow, and then smiled. My stomach turned over, not unpleasantly but not easily either. I chanced a glance at Aragorn who was watching his foster-father's slow approach with what looked like much less interest.

"Father." Elladan inclined his head when they were within speaking distance. "We were just discussing the improved relations between us and Mirkwood." His grin in my direction made me want to cringe but I stayed as still as I could.

Lord Elrond's gaze landed on him and held fast. "Were you now?"

I, who knew him so intimately, noted the trace of a warning simmering in his voice, but it was well-concealed. He then turned to me, the grey shimmer of his eyes illuminating me and causing a sudden ripple of unchecked desire to flow across my skin. I thought I detected a question in those eyes, and I forced myself to smile.

"Imladris' friendship is highly valued by the Forest," I said, and it was a wonder that my voice did not crack into an exhale.

Beside his Lord, Glorfindel made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a hum, but he said nothing.

"I did not know," said Aragorn, looking from me to his foster-father. "But it seems to me a good thing. An improvement, I daresay."

Elrond inclined his head at him. "We shall speak more of this later," he said. "This is no night for politics." And so he did what I had not managed: he brushed the debate aside in a matter of heartbeats. "I am glad to see you safe and dry, _ion_. Have you eaten since your return?"

It was plain to see in Aragorn's face that being treated like a child was not what he desired but in the end he shook his head.

"Well, then," Elrond looked at his other sons, "I suggest you find yourself some food before they clear the tables." Half a glance skidded my way. "Take your brother downstairs. I have a matter to discuss with Legolas."

"Of course." A new smile curved Elrohir's lips. "Come Glorfindel, I believe the wine is downstairs, too." He gave a slight bow. "Father."

"I will speak with you later, Legolas," said Aragorn. "I wish to hear more of your journeys."

"I and of yours," I assured him, with a smile.

They retreated and began weaving their way through the crowd. The music had picked up a quicker pace and the din was rising, spiralling towards the vaulted ceilings and the winter stars above. With a sudden prickle of nervousness, I turned to the Lord of Imladris. Though I should be used to it by now, the force of his gaze almost toppled me.

His eyes were on my face, the grey gleaming and dancing. "I did not foresee my foster-son's return."

I shook my head. "It is…"

"I might have…" He stepped up closer, coming to stand but a foot from me. His voice sank lower and a small smile played on his lips. "I might have seen it, had I not been preoccupied."

"I did not mean to distract you, my lord." My mouth had gone quite dry and my lips moved only reluctantly.

"A welcome distraction," he promised. "Come, let us find some privacy."

It took us a good long while to find an empty chamber: another study, leading off the great library, with not much more than a desk and a chair. Elrond wove through the guests slowly, assuming, I supposed, that I followed after; he did not turn to check. When he could finally pull the heavy curtain closed across the door opening, the music had changed again into a slower rhythm that filled the house with a gentle air.

The doors to the balcony were closed and set in such a direction that tonight the face of the waning moon did not beg entrance. The starlight did, though, and the lights from the trees, and yet what shone the brightest were the eyes of the Lord beside me. He turned to me, chin tilted upwards just a fraction, as though he was making ready to challenge me.

"Tell me."

I swallowed, my hold on my own sanity suddenly frightfully fragile. "What can I tell you, my lord?"

"What is in your heart."

"My heart…" Elbereth knew I could lose myself in those eyes. "You know my heart."

He nodded, lips parting slightly. "Shall I speak with my foster-son?"

"Yes." It came out in a breathless whisper. "Please."

Again, he nodded. Then he closed what little distance was left between us and took my chin between thumb and forefinger. "As I spoke with your father?"

My mouth felt parched. Truly, my entire being was changed under the burning weight of his attention. "Maybe… not like that."

He gave a hum of sorts, and with ease angled my head as he preferred. "No, maybe not." There was but a breath of a pause before he continued. "But if I could not wait…?" he mused, voice dropping lower as his gaze settled on my lips. "If I desired to take you by the hand and lead you out among my guests and embrace you before them all?"

I could no longer feel my feet. My own voice barely held. "I could never stop you."

I let him angle my head again, as it pleased him, until he judged the position perfect. Then he leaned in and simply brushed his lips against mine, so lightly that I hardly felt it. Not nearly as hard as I craved. As he withdrew, a knowing smile curved his mouth.

"Estel thinks you have closed your heart to love," I heard myself saying, this stray thought cutting absurdly through the haze that was otherwise clouding my mind. "He sees you as Lord only, shackled to affairs of administration and governing."

"Does he?" Elrond's hand travelled from my chin to my hair, to gently tangle in it. "And how do you see me, Legolas?"

I swallowed. "As commander."

He raised a dark brow. "In battle?"

Then he was suddenly even closer, lips grazing my neck as his hand tugged on my hair to expose it. "When I am inside you?"

My knees nearly gave way. His free hand stroked my side and came down almost to my hip. One of his knees parted my thighs and all I could do was to melt against him, silently begging for more of whatever he was willing to give while his house was swarming with guests. His mouth found my pulse point and he applied wet, warm pressure there until I gasped. I could feel his smile sink into my skin.

When I finally gathered enough wit to succeed in winding an arm around his waist, he tugged at my hair again.

"Look at me."

My eyelids were heavy but I forced my eyes open, and if he had not held me I might have been struck down by the scorching desire I saw in his face in that moment. Quite contrary to what I had expected, his hand came to stroke my cheek, fingertips dancing over my flushed skin. His lips were parted and reddened, and I could almost still feel them upon my throat.

"I love you," he said, his voice a low murmur. "I desire you so, but above all else I love you." He wove his hands into my hair, uncaring of the braids I had spent a ridiculous amount of time arranging before. "My heart is not closed, Legolas."

"I know," I managed, after I had swallowed hard.

He nodded. With both of his hands in my hair I surely looked a mess but Elrond seemed not to mind.

I found my voice again. "I love you beyond comprehension."

A new smile drew across his face. It settled there and softened his features until the most burning edge of desire was smoothed into the lapping waves of adoration. This was, in a way, an even more wondrous thing to experience.

He cupped my face and placed a kiss on my lips. A warm kiss, long and affirming. I secured my hold on his waist and allowed myself to drown in the blessing of this night. When we parted, the gleam in his eyes was gentle. Yet… His gaze fell to my throat and suddenly his hand pressed against my chest, fingers splayed.

"Love and desire," he mused, "they come in equal measures, it seems." His hand drifted a little further down, until the pad of his thumb pressed over a spot near one of my nipples. "Now or later? Or both?"

"Your house is full of guests, my lord." It was not really an answer, and we both knew it.

"So it is."

Unhindered, he began walking me backwards until my back met with the wall.

"Turn around."

I did. I lifted my arms to support my head as I leaned against the wood, and I closed my eyes as he stepped up to me to press against my back. Without any hesitation, his hands found my groin and when he cupped me through my breeches I could not stop my moan.

He stroked me through the wool, found a way to trace my wakening length through the fabric and make it almost as good as if he were touching naked skin. My breathing turned shallow and restless as my heated blood sped up its rush through my veins to pool in the very centre of my body. His exhale was hot on my neck and when he finally pushed down the fabric to expose my flesh, even he groaned.

He fisted me. He pushed the skin back to reveal the tip of my length and he twisted the head so that I lost a heartbeat. When his thumb followed the sensitive ridge beneath it, I had to bite down on my wrist to keep from crying out. His lips left kisses on my neck and in my hair, and his tongue tip found the pointed peak of my ear and teased it so that it made me squirm. I did not as much hear his laugh as feel it ripple through my body and set me aglow from within.

He coaxed pearly white liquid from me and spread it liberally over my flesh and his own palm. It eased the friction and allowed for his movements to speed up. He held me now, held me upright, for I could not feel my legs, and nor could I seem to decide if leaning against him or the wall would be the better option. I was shaking. He was saying something but I never made out the words. The pressure of his fingers around my length, the intensity of his strokes, were the only things I registered. He brought me to such a completion I had not known existed.

I gradually regained my senses, my spinning head an odd weight crowning my buzzing body. His arms were around me and we were almost seated. Leaning against the desk, I discovered, when my eyes would open again.

His hand still covered my twitching length and I might have blushed had I had any blood left to spare my face. As if he could read my mind, he ran his fingertips over the sticky skin and caused a final moan to fall from my lips. He laughed, then, and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

"Shall we do it again?"

Smiling, I shook my head where it rested against his shoulder. "I could not."

He tucked me inside my breeches and proceeded to hold me properly instead. "Later, then."

I twisted a little in the embrace, seeking his eyes with mine. "For your pleasure as well, my lord."

He joined our mouths together in a long kiss. Upon parting, he smiled. "Your pleasure is mine." Then he gave me a little push to encourage me to stand. "Now we shall wash and return to the celebration."

I followed him on unsteady legs to a bathing chamber where we washed and sorted out my braids. Then back to the guests, the crowded rooms and the music. His touch fell from me as soon as we made ourselves visible again and though I mourned the loss of it I told myself that it was temporary, until he had had a chance to speak with Aragorn in peace, giving his foster-son as much time as he needed to come to terms with this new reality.

How wrong I was.

For Elrond suddenly paused mid-step, only moments after he had accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant, and I saw in him the bright birth of an idea.

I followed his gaze and it landed on Aragorn, still in the company of the twins and Glorfindel, and even as my breath caught in my throat, there was a rasp of fear in my breast.

Too late I found my voice. "My lord…"

But Elrond was already crossing the floor and I was forced to hasten after him, clutching desperately at my dignity.

As we came up to them, to my embarrassment, Elrohir's eyes widened and his twin rolled his eyes. Glorfindel's face was peculiarly closed but his mouth twisted into what could have been the beginnings of a grin. Only Aragorn exhibited some form of confusion at our hurried approach.

"Father? Legolas?"

"I would speak with you, _ion_ ," the Lord's voice came, plunging me headfirst into the whirl of a wind I was not sure I could stand against.

"Elrond…" Not only did the intimacy of such an address betray us but my tone of voice alone would have done it otherwise. Yet I could not help it; I was surely not ready for this.

"No," he said, softly, his eyes for a moment on mine. "Enough of secrecy." Then, briefly and much more sternly, to the twins: "Enough of games." Then he turned from me to Aragorn and was father and Lord so completely. "Come."

I watched them step away from us, move deeper into the room, into a corner where the starlight did not reach them. Dread tiptoed across my heart as Aragorn frowned before his foster-father's serious face. I was tempted to turn my back to them but found I could not move. I stared into the young man's face as the frown deepened and then gave way to shock. He opened his mouth but if he spoke I could not be sure for his lips barely moved. Then, from their secluded corner, his wide grey eyes fell on me and I felt fire in my cheeks.

I moved, then, taking a step closer. A second, and a third. So did he and we met halfway, incredulity painted all over his form.

"Estel…" I floundered. " _Aragorn_ …"

"Nay." He held up a hand. "Stay your words."

So I did.

"You and my father?" His gaze was so piercing it pinned the air inside me to the very pit of my lungs.

I nodded. "I would have told you… Soon. But–"

His eyes fell from me and grew somewhat distant, and he made a face. "Now I understand why my brothers spoke in riddles before."

"Aragorn, forgive me…"

But he shook his head. "No…" Then, as if a thought struck him in that very instant, his head suddenly jerked up. "No. No, you should be _thanked_."

I frowned. "What for?"

The light had invaded his eyes. It spilled into his face and he was utterly transformed. "Do you not see? Do you not see that your love has opened my father to the understanding of such emotions?"

"He was always…"

"No, no, I _mean_ …" He licked his lips. "To _romance_ , if you will. If he is himself in love, how could he deprive another of the same sweet blessing?"

I opened my mouth to speak but closed it almost immediately. He saw hope for himself in this, I realised. Hope for himself and Arwen.

"It is a good thing, Legolas," he went on, still bright of eye and with a grin of determination growing on his lips. "And better you than someone I do not call friend."

I found that, at last, I could smile.

The others waited for us where I had left them, but to my surprise none of the twins seemed particularly pleased as we approached. I was about to ask when a hand landed on my waist and Elrond secured a hold on me. Such open display of affection was not new to me for our relationship had not been kept secret yet it had not been publicly announced either and so it was with just a touch of self-consciousness that I allowed him to bring me close.

It was, however, Elladan who spoke first. And tartly, too. "Decided on a change of style halfway through the feast, Legolas?" He nodded at my head and the much simpler braids that pulled my hair from my temples now.

Lord Elrond's hand on my waist was warm. He moved it half an inch, circling his thumb into the wool of my tunic. "Shall I have to speak with you also, _ion_? Though in words less fair?"

His son said no more but there was a glower about him.

I made to turn a look at Elrond but Glorfindel's melodious voice cut merrily through the tension and diverted my attention. "That will be coin on the morrow, then."

"Coin?" Aragorn asked him.

"Ah, yes." His smile was broad. "Your brothers made a wager, you see. So sure they were that your father would not disclose his love for Legolas tonight, but leave such revelations to the light of day."

I gaped at him while, half a step behind me, Elrond made a noise kin to a groan.

"And you share his confidence," muttered Elrohir.

"You should have thought of that before you placed your bets," said Glorfindel the golden, looking utterly pleased with the world. "Certainly, an evening most profitable."

Lord Elrond shifted his hold on me, then, and tugged me even closer. In his arms I moved to face him, all of his power and his love. But now, as I laid eyes on him, I saw that the commander was gone and his gaze was soft on my face. His kiss was softer still, and I melted into it and could only imagine what delights lay in waiting – when the night had turned and we again would be alone.

It did not exactly please me that the twins had made so light of the truth of my relationship with their father and, yet, when I thought of the reborn hope in Aragorn's eye and the promise of sunlight and greening grass ahead, I could not help but to agree with Glorfindel. For it was truly a constant wonder to my heart how I had gained so much in such short a time.

When Elrond lowered his mouth to mine anew, I knew nothing but starlight.

 **End**


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